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[vers]

happy international women's day

Comments

ML AU? ML AU.

[vers]

[ There is a certain attitude among kindred spirits. A grief that hangs heavy in the air, that makes you know without knowing, hear without saying, that you have occupied the same space in the universe as someone. Carol feels it every time she looks at Kylo Ren. She cannot put her finger on it until she sees him fight.

He was a weapon too. Someone else had owned him once, and now he is unchained. He burns like only someone who's been shackled can burn.

Later, after the fight, they are at a sports bar. One that Morningstar agents often frequent, one that has no real name. It's just a place people go. She's drinking whiskey, sitting across from him, and she asks what she knows she should never, ever ask: ]

Who were they?

ML AU it is.

[warfares]

( it's difficult to say what startles him more: the fact that she knowsㅡbecause he likes to pretend that he can be careful when he chooses, that he hides the scars that cut too deep to ever truly healㅡor that she can know and still ask.

his gaze shifts from her face to the glass in his hand, still half full, and he considers downing the whole thing rather than answering. swallows. ) A teacher.

( true in both cases. ) He's gone now.

[vers]

[ It hits her sideways to hear him say it. Maybe it's always a teacher. Or maybe they just always present themselves that way. She shifts her gaze around, a little uncomfortable with confronting that. She doesn't like thinking of Yon-Rogg. She hasn't had to in some time. ]

Did you kill him?

[ She hadn't. Maybe she should have, but dishonor is worse than death for Kree, and she feels a little more content knowing that she had ruined him instead, made him live with that. ]

[warfares]

Yes.

( like it was simple. like he hadn't spent the duration of that elevator ride, thoughts skittering; panicked and furious and every inch his father's son.

he tips back the glass, savours the burning slide, before adding, somewhat resigned: ) He didn't leave me much of a choice.

[vers]

[ Yon-Rogg had tried not to give her a choice either. She wonders if she would have said the same thing if she'd given in and done it, trying to prove herself to him. ]

Glad you did it?

[milano]

why the copy of rolling stone? something interesting on the cover?

[vdova]

[ Natasha nods, just once, at the mention of Fury's name, finally looking over to the other woman, giving her a quick assessment. She's not from around here — nothing new, considering the talking raccoon and god of thunder wandering around the premises. Fury clearly had dealings with this woman, if the pager is any indication, but whatever those were are files Natasha's never seen. Some things were just too hard to get into, even for her.

Her mouth quirks up a little in a wry smile at the question. ]

Not anymore. Not that we ever really were. I was, at one point — an agent, but circumstances became complicated and I put in my two weeks. Most people call us vigilantes, now.

[ She straightens up, folding her arms, meeting her metaphorically toe to toe. ] And who are you?

[vers]

Just trying to get up to date. It's been a while.

[vers]

Carol Danvers.

[ Something Natasha probably should have known, Carol thinks, before putting that beeper anywhere to use it as a homing beacon. But it's been a while, and she doesn't know all of SHIELD's policies. How they've changed.

Besides. History isn't really what this is about. Fury had called her to deal with Thanos. So she'll deal with Thanos. Carol takes dying wishes pretty seriously. ]

Any idea where Thanos is now?

not what i expected but exactly what i wanted

[purpose]

[ She'd known something was coming.

The twisting in her gut is unexplainable — the same pull that has led her to intact salvage, that has warned her of scavengers hovering near the hovel she calls her own. This time, she excuses it as Plutt's meddling, and the assurance that he will seek out what she has denied him.

But the woman that plants herself inside isn't one of Plutt's thugs, come to retrieve the same droid she has batted them away from stealing like any regular pile of scrap. Neither is she a simple scavenger. From the look of her — clean, despite the sprinklings of sand, and healthy — she isn't even of Jakku. It's written all over her.

That calls into question, then, what is so vitally special about this astromech unit that's found its way into her life. Rey doesn't stop to question it, more prone to action, on her feet defensively within seconds. The staff in her hands is more warning than weapon, for the moment, when she barks, ]

I'm not turning anything over to you. [ Her teeth bare, snapping, as her expression pinches together. ] Get out.

[milano]

anything interesting? last time i was on earth, hall and oates were a big thing.

[warfares]

There was ㅡ ( he has to pause, casting around for the right word for how he had felt, ) relief.

( a sense of finality, as well; there would be no coming back from this, and perhaps that wasn't the worst thing, but finding himself suddenly free of the leash had been frightening as much as liberating. )

Freedom is not something I'm accustomed to.

[vers]

[ Vers notes the staff, and there's a flicker of something through her expression--a cross between amused and impressed. She registers it, yes, then advances to where she sees BB-8 huddled in the corner of the room. She has power on her side. Strength that the rest of them can't even imagine. She has the Force.

Even if no one will train her how to use it. Even if they hold her back like a caged animal.

It's for her good. Schooling the feeling out of her. Civilizing her. She has to learn that restraint, so she tries to side-step the fight entirely now by simply barreling through. It's arrogance, of course. The kind of swaggering arrogance that in fact courts a fight on purpose. But she can claim to Yon-Rogg later, aboard their flagship, that she had done her best.

She closes a blue energy webbing around BB-8, making him weightless. ]

[vers]

Migos.
Doesn't even look like most of it is music anymore.

[vers]

I thought they were teaching me to control my power. But they were limiting it.

[ She looks at her fist, turning it over. That power is gone now. Replaced with something else. Still, she can feel it latent, running through her. Pieces of it remain because that energy had become part of her. But only pieces. ]

They tried to turn me into their weapon. [ She sets her fist back on the table and throws the rest of her whiskey back, drawing a deep breath. ] I know what it feels like.

[milano]

what's a migos?

[purpose]

[ Did she just —

The small fraction of a pause, a stillness in Rey's locked muscles, barely registers visually. But it's there, that flicker of incredulity that quickly slides into outright indignation and then, finally, determination.

The webbing doesn't draw her eye. She's never seen anything like it, but the mystery remains unimportant in the face of BB-8's panicked, protesting chirps. Rey moves to action, mistaking the stranger's dismissal as blind arrogance — an advantage, if she expects that Rey won't strike as she does now, brazen, swinging at the back of her head.

Rey doesn't know who, and what, she is — but it doesn't matter in the grand scheme. Whoever she works for — and it isn't this droid's master, as evidenced by his fit — knows what that droid holds, knows his significance; she won't, can't, allow it to fall into their hands. ]

[evite]

I'm not. [ that's true. technically speaking, anyway. ] Well, not like this. It's complicated.

[ but if glowstick barbie's not here to kill her, daisy's not particularly fussed about giving a whole ted talk on her inhuman dna just yet. ]

I'm looking for a friend. Or I was, before blue balls over here decided to rope me into their knockoff Hunger Games. Which, you know, I've done before? Not a fan.

[ a beat. ]

You?

[vers]

Beats me.
The point being I'm taking you for whatever you've got. You are not the first person to call me an asshole, Quill.

[vers]

[ Turning around barely seems to require movement on Vers' part. She twists her upper body, grabs the staff as it comes down. It stings like a bitch, but these things happen. Then she raises her other hand, thrusts her palm into Rey's chest with the sharp and decisive intent of knocking her back, separating her from the staff.

If this girl insists upon a brawl, it's a brawl she'll get. The droid isn't going anywhere now.

It would be easier, so much easier, if she used the Force. Lashed out. Lit this whole place up with it. She could freeze the girl, levitate the droid, if she could only control it. But she has to work with what she's given. That was Yon-Rogg's rule. ]

[vers]

I came looking for them.

[ The latent golden glow dims around her as the fight starts to die off. ]

What are Hunger Games? [ She shakes her head, not much behind it, just uncertain and trying to follow. ]

[milano]

aww and here i wanted to be a first for you.
rain on my parade why won't you.
but join the club.
asshole recognizes asshole.

[vers]

You missed that by about forty years.

[ just saying. ]

What did the raccoon do, anyway?

[milano]

he's just a prick.
and i thought you might like him.

[purpose]

[ Failing to anticipate Vers' move is a misstep that sends her stumbling, kicking up sand and dust as she works to regain her footing. The familiarity allows her to right herself quickly; Jakku's terrain has made her more even-footed, certain in her steps, squaring her thighs as she rediscovers that balance.

Her fingers itch for their staff. A scavenger's habit, possessive of what little she can call her own — what she has created, discovered, and repurposed in her bid for survival here. Instead, she inhales deeply in preparation and then lunges, launching herself toward the stranger, in a sloppy attempt to get her to the ground. ]